


5:45 am

by Jamesneatojourney



Category: Chikara (Professional Wrestling), Professional Wrestling
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Soldier ant is trying to get better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 07:45:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6973996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jamesneatojourney/pseuds/Jamesneatojourney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season 15 finished a couple months ago, but The Colony is still adjusting back to home life. Soldier continues to suffer the after effects of his long-term trauma at the hands of The Flood, and Fire and Silver ant do what they can to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	5:45 am

5:45 am

Soldier tried at first, when he first got home. Tried to force himself back into his old routine to see if things would settle back into place easier. A cup of coffee that night with dinner, just like normal. Brewed strong in his french press, like he always made it. The french press was a birthday gift from Fire years ago. 

However, the normal pleasant buzz he had come to expect had somehow morphed into a petrifying sense of dread, paranoia, full body shakes that left him experiencing night terrors and stress dreams the whole night. 

It never used to give him nightmares, but then again, he had far less source material for nightmares back then. There were still so many blank spots and gaps of time from the last two and a half years. And it seems that he gets more of these memories back as time goes on, unfortunately, lately, through nightmares alone. Flashes of events from The Flood, sounds, flickering blinks of memories, scattered and incoherent. Louder and brighter than he could handle. It would thrust him awake, only to leave him in complete silence and darkness, which made his mind go into overdrive. It took him nearly a week to stop waking in a panic and realize he was home. 

However, at least Soldier hasn’t been alone, he is staying with Fire and Silver for now. This has made the process significantly easier. Soldier used to have his own place, but two and a half years without paying rent was a very easy way to lose an apartment. Luckily for him, Fire and Silver made it their own task in saving his belongings, few as they were, before it all got scrapped. Things like his tags, and the pictures he kept of his buddies from his old Platoon were tucked away in the guest room that had become his.

As soon as Top Banana ended, they were both adamant in having him stay with them. Soldier didn't have anywhere else to go, and yet he still felt hesitant to accept their offer. He can’t imagine a world where they wouldn't offer their home to him. Worker visited every day to check in and see if he could help in any way, but he knew that Silver and Fire could do much more than he could. That aside, Worker has a family to take care of first and foremost. 

The first few nights with them were some of the hardest he’s had in memory. That first night had been nothing but adrenaline laced night terrors, throwing him in and out of sleep until finally waking for good at 4 am. He tried half-heartedly to get back to sleep, but he wasn't even sure if sleep was what he really wanted. That night had left him so out of it, that he was completely gone by morning.

 

\----------------------------------------------------- 

Silver was wandering into the kitchen at 6 am to start breakfast when he had noticed Soldier. He was sitting rigid beneath the table, one of their kitchen knives in hand, white knuckled from his intense, shaky grip.

Silver tried talking to him, but Soldier doesn’t remember that. 

Silver says he tried to wake him up, but Soldier doesn’t remember that

SIlver says he tried to grab the knife from him,

Soldier remembers that.

Soldier had acted on instinct, that’s what Silver told him. Probably in an attempt to make him feel better. 

‘Your body was trying to defend itself, I shouldn’t have tried to grab it from you.’

That’s what Silver said later that morning, while Fire was delicately bandaging Silver’s arms. The cuts were scattered and deep on Silver's palms, with some lesser cuts on his forearms as well as one nasty one on his upper right bicep. Silver was trying not to wince when Fire tightened the gauze, but Soldier still noticed it. 

Soldier could hardly bear to look at either of them. His brothers had opened their home, and he’s already managed to hurt them. He was in the living room right by the kitchen, curled into himself on the couch. That’s where he had woken up. Someone, most likely Fire, had cleaned the blood off of him while he was out. And while it may have been a relief to wake up and not see it, it was a living hell to look over the side of the couch, into the kitchen, and see the smeared blood that still remained on the floor. Part of Soldier was hoping that it was just another nightmare.

Soldier strained to process Silver’s words. Silver was less than 10 feet away, Fire working quickly and quietly over the kitchen sink, but Silver was doing all he could to try and console Soldier and lessen the emotional toll he knew this was taking. 

Soldier shut his eyes and turned away, feeling the distant sting on his cheek from where Fire had struck him. That’s what it had taken to snap Soldier out of it, to wake him up. Fire had come running from his room as soon as he heard Silver cry out. He stumbled into the kitchen to see the knife in Soldier's hand, and Silver’s bloody hands raised defensively. 

The first thing Soldier remembered was Fire yelling, grabbing at him, grabbing at something, and then the burning sting of getting slapped. He had seen SIlver, doubled over cradling his arms against himself. Silver’s white t shirt dingy with deep red smears of his own blood. He distantly felt something get pulled from his grasp, then saw Fire quickly throw the knife aside, out of sight.

Everything had gone fuzzy. He saw Fire desperately try and check on Silver, pulling Silver’s hands away from where he had them pressed against himself, but Soldier didn't hear a word they were saying. His vision began to tunnel as he looked down at his hands. They were tacky with reddish-brown drying blood and shaking. Soldier stared at his hands, at the blood, and a numbness started crawling up his spine and prickling at the back of his neck. 

The view of the kitchen slowly started to shift, the floor slowly tilting until Soldier’s left temple slammed against it. His vision started to fade, his eyes locked on Fire, who was now kneeling in front of Silver and pressing a towel against his red-slicked arms. Soldier could faintly see Silver reach for him; Silver’s mangled, bloody hand outstretched towards him, barely a foot away. Soldier’s breath hitched, and then darkness swept in.

 

\-------------------------------

 

Soldier shook his head and took a deep breath. He glanced down and shifted his feet on the faded linoleum, actively trying to ignore the messy and deep scratches that still lingered on the floor beneath the table. 

Soldier tightened his grip on the hot mug, ignoring the burn he started to feel on his palm. He tried to breathe deep, but got a shaky inhale and an exhale that rattled his chest.

‘I could’ve killed him right then and there, my first night home.’

Soldier shut his eyes, trying to relax and push the thoughts aside, but his eyes started to burn and his throat tighten.

‘What the fuck did The Flood do to me?’

Another ragged breath worked its way out of Soldier before one hand left his mug to cover his face. His shoulders lurched and he just let the tears come, slowly curling into himself until his forehead was pressed against the wobbly dining table. 

Soldier was breathing loud, heaving sobs when he suddenly felt that cold, sinking feeling of vulnerability at realizing that his back was exposed to the kitchen. He felt a wave of pin pricks go over his skin, anxiety spiking. He started breathing quicker, shallower, the tears and snot making them much more desperate.

The hand still over his face scrunched into a fist and he pulled it away from himself before raising it and heavily slamming it onto the weak table, letting out a frustrated sob. He did it again, and again, until his hand seared and ached, after which he brought his throbbing hand back up to cover his face.

“I’m home! Why is this happening! Why? I’m safe!” He wanted to yell, but it sounded more like a pleading whisper than anything else. This sent Soldier into another round of sobs that shook him weakly. Soldier was so tired. Figuring out what he could do that wouldn't cause a panic attack or cause dissociation was so stressful. He couldn't even work out like he used to. The clangs of weights and yells of muscleheads were enough to keep him from focusing the minute he walked in.

Soldier had his head in his hand, hand still throbbing since hitting the table. His sobs were starting to grow more intermittent when out of nowhere he heard:

“Soldier?”

Fire didn’t mean to sneak up on him, he really didn’t. He was just worried. But nonetheless, Soldier hadn't noticed him leaving his room and approaching the kitchen.

Soldier lurched quickly at hearing his name, his entire body swiveling at his hips to face Fire, wet bloodshot eyes wide as his mind went into overdrive. 

Fire wasn’t looking him in the eye, he was saying something and starting to reach towards Soldier’s hand. Soldier tensed and followed Fire’s line of sight to see what had caught his attention.

It was his mug. Whether it was from his shaky crying, him hitting the table, or even from reacting just then to Fire; at some point he had spilled his tea onto his left hand as well as nearly a third of the small table. Now that soldier noticed it, the distant pain he felt started to creep back, and the numbness that had previously gripped him began to ebb away. 

As the numbness faded, Soldier was finally able to hear Fire’s voice, laced with concern.

“Soldier? I’m going to take the mug ok?”

Soldier stared blankly at him for a moment and slowly nodded, loosening the grip on the ceramic cup. He started to pull his hand away and winced, the newly formed burns on his hands quickly making themselves known. Fire moved the mug to the sink and turned back to see Soldier examining his scalded hand. Fire quickly rounded the table and started to reach towards his hand, but hesitated, locking eyes with Soldier,

“Can I look at your hand?”

Soldier took a breath, accompanied with a shallow nod

Fire took Soldier’s hand by the wrist and carefully pulled it in close to examine the reddening blotches that had formed on the back of it. He took a moment, carefully turning Soldier’s hand over to check to see how bad his palm was before going back to the sink and returning with a washcloth.

“This might hurt a bit, but the cold water is going to help. Remember, I’m right here, and everything is alright, ok?”

Soldier nodded again, still trying to focus on Fire’s words to ground himself. 

Fire again carefully grabbed Soldiers wrist, turning it palm up and pausing.

“Ready?”

Soldier took a deep breath and this time managed a response,

“Ready”

Fire smiled before delicately laying the wet washcloth onto his palm, monitoring Soldiers face intently.

Soldier visibly winced and drew in a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut.

‘Fire’s here, I’m fine. He’s helping me, I’m ok.’

Eyes closed, he heard Fire’s voice, sympathetic and sincere,

“I’m going to go get Silver so he can hold this while I get the bandages ok?”

Fire was being incredibly patient, and Soldier was grateful for that. Normally Fire never talked this much, but in order to be as clear as possible, Fire knew that he couldn’t assume that Soldier would be able to understand the body language or various noises he normally used to communicate. 

Soldier suddenly realized that Fire had asked him a question, and he looked up to see Fire eyeing him, waiting for a response. Soldier suddenly for the life of him couldn’t remember what Fire had said. He looked down at his hand, feeling the burn of his palm, his headache throbbing,

‘You weren’t even listening. He’s trying to help and you won’t even listen to him?’

Soldier felt his chest start to tighten, eyes flicking upwards to meet Fire’s.

“Uh, I--”

Fire spoke again, very carefully, maintaining eye contact

“It’s ok. I’m going to go get Silver so he can help, ok?”

Soldier exhaled, blinking away from Fire’s gaze,

“Oh. ok”

Fire nodded and reached a free hand out to grab Soldier’s, pulling it to hold onto the washcloth cooling his burn. Fire held Soldier’s free hand over the washcloth until Soldier understood to keep it there. Fire then got up from the dining table and quickly walked to the shut bedroom door at the end of the hall.

Soldier watched as Fire knocked on Silver’s door and waited. Silver was a fairly heavy sleeper at times, which was why he hadn’t come out to see what the fuss was like Fire had. 

Soldier had a headache from crying and it was making it difficult to focus. His head throbbed, and the washcloth felt impossibly rough on his raw and sensitive hand. Soldier had brewed the tea to the brink of boiling, but he had expected to let it cool off before trying to drink it. It had only been 15 minutes between the water boiling in the kettle and boiling on his hand. 

Fire knocked again, this time hearing the squeak of a shifting bed. A moment later, Silver opened the door, blinking hard and looking down at Fire, itching his face and making an unhappy wordless noise. Fire silently nodded towards where Soldier sat, watching him blink slowly at him. Silver scrubbed a hand over his face again before lazily looking up towards the table. He froze, immediately seeing the washcloth that was covering Soldier’s hand as well as his bloodshot eyes. He snapped his attention back to Fire, noticeably more alert and infinitely more awake.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” he asked, glancing between Soldier and Fire. Fire remained calm, and waited until Silver looked down at him again before locking eyes,

“Spilled tea.” Fire held up his own hand and wiggled his fingers. “Burn.”

Silver exhaled and appeared to relax slightly. He seemed to forget Fire completely and walked over to the table, taking the seat that Fire had previously occupied. He glanced momentarily to the now cooled puddle of tea that was strewn across one side of the table and idly dripping onto the floor, ignored it to focus on Soldier.

“How bad is it? You can move everything right? What happened? Do you mind if I look?”

Soldier had come to expect SIlver to worry and ask more questions, and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of a smile pull at his lips for a moment. Silver was a bit more sociable than Fire. Nothing against Fire, just a statement of fact. Silver’s always been the talker, in and out of the ring. Especially In times like this, where one of them is hurt. Silver can get very protective, to the point where Fire affectionately calls him a mother duck at times. 

Soldier was almost completely relaxed into his chair by that point, noticing Silver’s hands fiddling with the hem of his shirt. It was a seafoam green with an anchor on the upper right side. A gift from Ashley, Soldier guessed. Silver eyed the washcloth anxiously, clearly in distress of not knowing how bad it looked. He lifted his hands up, presenting them to Silver, who perked up and took them gently, carefully lifting the washcloth to assess the damage. Soldier knew to just let Silver dote on him. It would help them both.

Silver inhaled sharply through his teeth, examining the reddened and blistering skin. Soldier waited patiently, letting Silver fret over him. It was comforting, in an odd, sad way. He hated seeing Silver upset about things like this, but it was still nice to know Silver cared. 

Silver held Soldier’s scalded hand with one hand and reached to grab the washcloth with his free one. He picked it up and frowned,

“Its pretty dry, I’m gonna run it under the sink, hold up,”but as he was getting up, Fire returned to the kitchen from the bathroom, first aid kit in hand.

Soldier’s eyes lingered on the small, plastic first aid kit. It was the same one Fire had used on Silver's hands after the incident his first morning home.

Fire set the kit on the table and started rummaging through it, pulling out a small roll of gauze and the almost laughably small pair of scissors that must have come with the kit.

Soldier watched Fire as he quickly unraveled the gauze and reached carefully for Soldiers hand, Silver pulling his hands away. While Silver may be the one to worry and dote on whoever’s hurt, Fire is the one most capable of actually patching them up correctly. Fire quickly wrapped up Soldiers hand, slowing down significantly over the webbing between his thumb and pointer finger, where the blistering had gotten the most intense. Soldier tried his best to not wince or flinch during the process, but when Fire wrapped the gauze over his pointer finger, he couldn't help but draw in a breath, which cause Fire to freeze.

“Sorry,” Fire said, as he slowly continued on with dressing his hand. Soldier blinked hard,looked up at him confused, and just shook his head. Fire was helping, why apologize? Fire continued, not stopping as he began to adjust the gauze and reached for the scissors.

“Shouldn't have startled you.” He gestured to Soldier’s hand, the gauze now secure. 

“My fault,” he said quietly, putting the gauze back in the kit and cleaning up the scraps left on the table.

Soldier furrowed his brows at that. As Silver and Fire cleaned up the kitchen, Soldier mulled over the events of that morning-- and of every event since he’d been home.

“No.”

Silver and Fire stopped, glancing up. Soldier had been fairly quiet since coming home, but he took a shaky breath and looked up at the two of them.

“You two aren't the ones at fault for the things I do.” Soldier stood from his spot at the table and continued.

“I leave. I leave and end up becoming a prisoner of The Flood. You two blamed yourselves for not finding me. I get brought in to fight for The Flood, you blame yourselves for not being able to get through to me. I attack the two of you on a regular basis as part of the BDK all last year, again you blame yourselves for not being able to get rid of Jakob just so you can talk to me!”

Soldier had his hands up in exasperation. He takes a shaky breath and continues, a distinct wobble in his voice, “ After all of this, I finally get home and what do I do not even 24 hours later? I nearly kill you Silver! In your home! In your own fucking kitchen! And even then, somehow it was your fault!?” Soldier stepped heavily towards Silver, using his good hand to grab and raise one of Silver’s by the wrist.

“These! Look at them!” Soldier yells, desperately gesturing towards the visible jagged scars that still littered Silver’s hands and forearms.

“HOW THE FUCK ARE THESE NOT MY FAULT!?” Soldier didn’t know when he started to cry, but the tears were there again, making messy streaks down his pained features. He dropped his hand to his side, still keeping a tight grip on Silver’s wrist. Breathing heavy and ragged, he takes a moment, then continues, quieter,

“I have done nothing but hurt you both for nearly 3 years now. How can you still not blame me for any of it?”

Silver had a tensed jaw and was breathing deep to try and maintain his composure. Fire was looking at the floor, fists clenched.

“We’re a Colony Soldier,” Silver said quietly, “We take care of eachother. When you were gone, we didn’t know where you went or if you were ok. We knew, we promised, that as soon as we got you back, that we would do whatever it took to help you recover. To keep you safe. We knew it wasn’t going to be easy. Family isn’t easy!” 

Silver wavered at that last bit, Fire noticed. Soldier had his head hung and was weeping, hand still tight around Silver’s wrist, trembling. Silver's eyes were wet and Fire could tell he was barely hanging on to what little composure he had left. 

Fire stepped up next to them, up onto his toes, and pulled both of them in for a hug. That was all Silver could take, he gripped Fire tightly using his free hand, his head tucked into the crook of Fire’s neck. Soldier was on the opposite side, his bandaged arm resting against Fire’s hip, head tucked into the other side of FIre’s neck. Fire stood there for a moment, letting them just lean on him. 

This was going to be a process, an uncomfortable, vulnerable process, but they were moving forward, and that was what was important. Soldier took a shuddery breath and pulled slightly away from Fire’s neck, just enough to speak.

“Guys?”

Fire responds first,

“Yeah Soldier?”

Soldier paused, then said, plainly,

“...Fuck tea, seriously.”

Silver snorted into Fire’s neck, and Fire himself couldn’t keep a straight face at that. Suddenly they were all just holding each other giggling like absolute hams.

Yeah, it’ll take time, but they’ll get there.


End file.
